Dichotomy
by ohcEEcho
Summary: Chris died. Yet he is now alive and well. Surely that doesn’t happen so easily? And if it does, whatever happened to the Chris who died to save him?
1. Chapter one

Dichotomy

**A/N: My very first Charmed story. I'm not sure how to work very well, so the format might be dodgy or something…some helpful hints would be nice I'm a bit of a technophobe. Any strange spelling is probably due to my stubborn resolve to remain staunchly British… no offense meant.**

**Summary: Christopher Peregrine Halliwell died. Yet he is now alive and well. Surely that doesn't happen so easily? And if it does, whatever happened to the Chris who died to save him?**

Disclaimer: Charmed belongs to someone who is very rich, so we can immediately assume it is not me. Don't sue, you'll only get a half empty jar of old fashioned jelly babies.

Warnings: Nothing really. A little bloodshed. Not slash, not a Mary sue (shudders) no badly developed female characters, no incest, just sibling love.

Rating: PG13 American, 12 English.

This story is told from a great many different points of view, and this can get a bit confusing. Anything in italic is a dream, or vision, seen by one of the characters.

Chapter 1

"_Why are you doing this?"_

_Wyatt Mathew Halliwell closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. Calm, calm. Remain calm. You need to do this._

"_Because I must."_

_A simple enough answer, to a simple enough question. But not the answer which had been sought, at all. No. There would be hell to pay. _

"_That's it? Just 'because you must'? Wyatt…please…"_

_Ah, there it was. The one weakness which undermined everything he had worked so hard to build. He couldn't turn, not now…pun not intended. He knew if he did, he would lose his resolve. He kept his eyes fixed on the pale, mocking cream of the wall beside him._

"_Do you trust me?"_

"_What? I don't-"_

"_That's not what I asked. Do you trust me?"_

"…_Yes."_

_Wyatt allowed himself a small smile and turned, to find his despondent younger brother attempting to glare a scorch hole through the carpet, and succeeding. Wyatt hastily stamped on the combusted area and took a step towards Chris._

"_Come on, Chris. I know what I'm doing, I promise." _

_Wyatt hesitated, before reaching out and placing a hand on his brother's shoulder, who refused to respond or even look up._

"_It's only for tonight. I'll be back before morning, I swear it. You won't even realize I've gone, I-"_

_Wyatt broke off in surprise, and suddenly his brother was in his arms, hugging him fiercely. He blinked, and looked down at the mussed brown hair beneath him as Chris attempted to burrow into his chest. He carefully put an arm around his brother, the other resting on his hair._

"_Hey, don't." His hands stroked his brother's hair, mimicking the mechanic echo of his mother's actions, albeit slightly clumsy. "Please don't. Don't make this harder than it is."_

"_You either, then." Came the muffled reply from somewhere in his chest, and Chris' arms tightened painfully around him. "Don't die, please…" Wyatt, dismayed, found his brother was trembling, his voice choked. "Please, Wy…you can't…"_

_Wyatt closed his eyes and rested his head atop his brothers, hand moving to rub comforting circles in Chris' back. He drew deep breaths and kept his mind clear. He could not allow this. Not now. _

"_It won't happen again."_

_His voice was strangely steady as he drew carefully back from his brother, hands gently but firmly placed on the other's arms. He stared determinedly into his brother's eyes._

"_Not now, not ever."_

_The hands moved up to bring Chris' head closer to his, and he pressed his lips briefly to the other's forehead before turning away and striding to the door. He turned as he reached for the handle._

"_I promise."_

But it had.

Christopher Peregrine Halliwell closed his eyes and forced such thoughts from his mind, shifting uncomfortably on the window ledge and sighing deeply. He supposed he wasn't…Christopher Peregrine Halliwell any more. Christopher Peregrine Halliwell was currently engaged in a furious and rigorous fight over the remote control for the television with his brother, Wyatt.

Now he was just…Chris.

Or Perry, as the angels and guardians had taken to calling him, to avoid confusion. He hated the name, personally. It had only been invented on the spur of the moment.

And the Wyatt who had now succeeded in wrestling the remote from Chris and was flicking lazily through the channels, was not Perry's brother.

No.

He had shorter hair, for one thing. And more fashion sense. And a sense of humour. And…

Perry halted his thoughts as a stab of jealousy course through him, and he glared down at Christopher Peregrine Halliwell, who was now sulking. If he only knew…

But all in good time. There was now only two weeks until Christopher's (Perry outright refused to call him 'Chris') birthday…and, subsequently, precisely seventeen years since Perry's deathday, as he liked to call it. He wondered vaguely if his father still remembered. If he did, he didn't show it. This…made Perry angry.

Very angry.

But it mattered little now. Perry had waited the entirety of seventeen years for this day, the day when Christopher finally reached the same age when he, Perry, had died. If that indeed was what had happened to him. He was still here, wasn't he…?

He smiled. Yes. Things were about to get _very _interesting.

**A/N: It's been done before, I know. Just thought I'd try it myself. Any comments? Let me know! Review!**


	2. Chapter two

Dichotomy

**A/N: Here we are again. Hope you enjoy!**

**Summary: Christopher Peregrine Halliwell died. Yet he is now alive and well. Surely that doesn't happen so easily? And if it does, whatever happened to the Chris who died to save him?**

Disclaimer: Charmed belongs to someone who is very rich, so we can immediately assume it is not me. Don't sue, you'll only get a half empty jar of old fashioned jelly babies.

Chapter 2

"Piper."

Leo Wyatt turned away from the sight of his sons bickering once again over some trivial matter, and faced his wife, who was carefully unpacking the shopping and placing it in its rightful place.

"Mm-hmm?"

She was clearly only half listening. Leo sighed, and moved over to the counter to help her with the shopping. He waited a few minutes before speaking again.

"I was thinking-"

"Leo, thinking is never a good idea." Piper sighed, as she chucked an empty jar of peanut butter into the bin and tutted.

"That boy of ours is obsessed, I swear."

"You shouldn't have eaten so much of those peanut and jelly bean sandwiches when you had him. Scarred him for life."

"Those were nice!"

They lapsed into cheerful banter over the questionable food preferences of Piper and their youngest son, and the reasons behind it. Reluctantly, Leo dragged conversation back to the original topic.

"Listen, Piper. I'm worried about Chris."

Piper froze, and whirled around to face him, knocking several jars of freshly unpacked peanut butter to the floor.

"Why?"

This sharp outburst had a slightly accusing tone to it. Leo sighed and took a deep breath.

"Well, it's just this is the age when…when he reaches the same age as…as the future Chris…well, you know." He tailed away feebly, refusing to speak the word 'died'.

Piper avoided his gaze and bent to retrieve the fallen peanut butter and straightened, but before she could speak, the jars were snatched out of her hands.

"Woah, Mum! Dangerously close to my peanut butter."

Chris held the jars protectively to his chest and placed them almost lovingly in their rightful place on the shelf above the fridge. There was an uncomfortable silence, and Chris raised his eyebrows.

"Something wrong, parents, blessed be?"

Piper rolled her eyes at her son's dry humour, the moment broken.

"No, peanut. Speaking of which…" she gestured to the jars "about this peanut butter obsession…"

"Oh, hell no, Mum. You remember what happened last time you rationed my peanut butter."

There was a horrified silence, and Leo groaned and winced at the memory. Chris nodded gravely.

"That's right." He paused, for dramatic effect "Peanut butter withdrawal symptoms! Worse than thrice charmed PMS."

Piper turned slightly pink, then muttered something about 'stupid emphatic sisters' before admitting defeat, recalling the mess that had resulted last time she had hidden the peanut butter. She sighed.

"Can I have peanut butter icing and marzipan for the cake, then?"

Leo grimaced at the thought. Well, he supposed, it did mean that Chris and Piper would have the cake all to themselves.

"And what gave you the impression there was a cake, Christopher?" Piper said, dangerously, sending a glare towards the living room.

"Well, the clearly visible ingredients in the see-through shopping bags and the poorly concealed shopping list and open cookbook were sort of a giveaway." Chris said, happily, before retreating to the living room to avoid his mother's wrath.

Perry sat dejectedly at the bottom of the stairs, prodding vaguely at the bloody gash in his once pale blue jumper, now adorned with a vivid scarlet patch in the centre. Nothing. No pain. Not yet, anyway.

He smiled weakly as he watched his mother - well, Chris' mother – humming quietly to herself as she unpinned the large banner from the wall, noting her contentment to not use magic to do so. He automatically waved his translucent hand to assist her, and was astonished when it sprang away from the wall as if blown off, startling her. He stared at his own hand, aghast.

"Thought you'd need assistance, Mum." Came a cheerful, if slightly hoarse, voice. Perry felt his heart sink in disappointment as Wyatt strode through the doorway and reached up to bring the banner to the ground. Piper smiled at him.

"Thank you, honey. Have fun?"

"You mean, did Chris have fun? Yes. Of course, Mum."

He grinned as she gave him an exasperated look.

"What? Not my fault I have superior powers." Perry froze, the phrase very much painfully familiar. "Just kidding. Dad was an elder when Chris was born, right? He's probably just late, as usual. Or lazy. Or both."

Perry sighed in relief, and reached for a peardrop on the small table beside the staircase. Strangely, these little bowls of peardrops seemed to be littered all around the house. He wondered vaguely why. He, who had a passionate love for the sweets, had discovered he could, now he was growing stronger, hold one in his hand if he concentrated.

He had just managed to get a hold of a particularly large orange one (his favourite flavour) when he froze. Wyatt's gaze had suddenly snapped to the bowl, and his eyes narrowed, then widened in excitement. Perry stared. Surely…but now he came to think of it…

Wyatt had always seemed to be around, or at least near the bowls when he had taken one, but he had never before caught him staring at it when he had made a grab for one. He had seen him stare intently at them once or twice, and had found it odd. And now he thought even harder…he had seen Wyatt once emptying the bowl, counting the peardrops, smiling triumphantly, then replacing them carefully.

Perhaps he thought they had a heist demon in the house.

Or perhaps…just perhaps…no. he surely hoped not. Wyatt could not somehow _sense _him, could he?

Excited at this prospect, and of his newfound ability to affect things solid, Perry stood abruptly and whipped his hand through the bowl as hard as he could.

With a resounding crash and a startled cry, both bowl and table fell to the floor. Perry stared, dumbfounded, then looked up hastily, to see Wyatt surveying the entire room intensely.

"Oh! Hell. Wyatt, you go on to bed, I'll-"

"No Mum!" Wyatt said quickly, too quickly, in Perry's opinion "You go on up. You've worked hard today…can't let the side down. I'll clear up the rest."

Piper smiled tiredly and yawned.

"Thanks, sweetie." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and turned towards the stairs, which Perry hastily moved away from. "Don't stay up too late."

She left.

Both Wyatt and Perry sighed in unison, in relief, and Perry jumped slightly. He surveyed Wyatt warily, who was still scanning the room, and had not moved. He slowly bent to push the banner aside, then straightened, and hesitated.

"Listen…spirit…I'm sorry."

Perry backed away, horrorstruck. Did he…could Wyatt…_see _him? But Wyatt was not looking in his direction, and he was plainly in sight. He waited.

"I had a hunch, that's all. I'm sorry if I offended you." He moved over to the bowl and righted the table; continuing to talk.

"I know you mean no harm, or I would sense it, so don't worry. I can't see you, either, by the way. You like peardrops, don't you?" he smiled slightly, gathering all the sweets together in a pile. Perry moved cautiously closer. Wyatt seemed to feel this, but continued to talk nonetheless.

"So do I. I like strawberry best. And Dad likes lemon. Chris-" he paused, looking around. "You don't like Chris, do you? I know. I don't sometimes, either." He smiled down at the gathered pile.

"There now. Is that all?"

He began to count them. Perry fumbled with his own peardrop, hesitated, then took a bold step forwards and held it out to Wyatt at eye level, who was kneeling, and waited with baited breath.

Slowly, Wyatt looked up, and his eyes widened at the sight of what would, to him, be a peardrop hanging in mid-air. He smiled shakily.

"No. Orange is your favourite, isn't it? Keep it."

Perry, momentarily stunned, dropped the peardrop to the floor and was hit with sudden inspiration. Although Wyatt could not see him…he hastily grabbed for the entire pile of peardrops and began to arrange them feverishly into a pattern.

Wyatt stared down at it.

"W-Y-A-T-T." he muttered, and smiled. "Yes, my name's Wyatt. What's yours?"

Perry hesitated, then shrugged, reaching for the sweets again. Wyatt watched patiently.

"P-E-R-R-Y. Per-ry. Perry." He frowned. "Have we met? I recognize that name from somewhere.

"_Yes."_

Wyatt gave a sharp intake of breath, and continued.

"Have you…have I known you a long time?"

"_Depends."_

Wyatt snorted.

"Okay…well…have we met recently?"

"_No."_

"A long time ago?"

"_Yes."_

"How long?"

"_Seventeen."_

"Seventeen years?" Wyatt's eyes widened. "Exactly?"

"_Exactly."_

"But then…" he frowned, trying desperately to recall what possibly happened the day Chris was born. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry. I don't remember."

"_Wouldn't."_

"Because I was too young?" Wyatt muttered. "Yes, I suppose so. Perry…Perry…so, um, Perry." He cleared his throat. "How old are you?"

Perry hesitated. It would be unwise to tell Wyatt this particular piece of information. It would seem too suspicious.

"_Depends."_

Wyatt grimaced.

"Depends on what? Specific guy, aren't you. I mean…if you are a guy…are you?"

Perry laughed.

"_Lol."_

Wyatt pouted.

"Rudeness. Well, are you a guy?"

"_Yes."_

"Damn."

Perry smacked Wyatt upside the head with a peardrop, and he yelped.

"_Perv."_

"I am not! Anyway…" he glanced at the clock, and Perry did too, and panicked when he saw he had less than an hour left. He hastily grabbed for the peardrops.

"_Go now."_

"Wow, two words. Well, Perry, if you don't mind…I'll see you in the attic tomorrow morning? Practice picking up pens and writing." Wyatt smiled as the peardrops moved once more.

"_Fine."_

He left up the stairs, leaving Wyatt to finished the promised clearing up alone, clutching the large orange peardrop in his hand.

**A/N: So, now we discover that we have a little bit of a problem…two Chris'. Not that that's a bad thing at all, really. **

**Please review!**


	3. Chapter three

Dichotomy

**A/N: This chapter is more comical than tragic. It's in preparation for the rather sinister twist in chapter five :p**

**Summary: Christopher Peregrine Halliwell died. Yet he is now alive and well. Surely that doesn't happen so easily? And if it does, whatever happened to the Chris who died to save him?**

Disclaimer: Charmed belongs to someone who is very rich, so we can immediately assume it is not me. Don't sue, you'll only get a half empty jar of old fashioned jelly babies.

Chapter 4

All was not so serene in the Halliwell household. Perry woke to hear raised voices, and stretched, although the action was unnecessary. He had no body, after all. He frowned, and hurried to the top of the stairs, where he could see Chris and Wyatt apparently in the middle of yet another argument.

"Shut up! Shut up before I fry your twice blessed ass!"

"Twice blessed-!"

"Yea! A blessing for each buttock, cos' it's so big and FAT!"

There was a pause, and Wyatt's face fell comically. Chris blanched, regaining his balance at the last moment and gaping as his older brother seemed to actually _pout. _Perry raised an eyebrow and leant against the banister.

"You think my butt's big?"

Wyatt turned around to scrutinize his behind over his shoulder. Chris barely swallowed a laugh and made a strangled snorting noise, before eventually having to yield one of his hands to stuff his fist in his mouth. When Wyatt gave said behind an experimental wiggle, however, Chris lost all control and collapsed to the floor, howling with laughter.

Fortunately or unfortunately, at that moment the front door swung open, and their mother entered the room, followed hastily by a slightly red faced Leo, who was staggering under a large pile of shopping bags. Piper froze and raised an eyebrow at the scene.

"Good heavens, what happened here?" she asked, turning briefly to relieve a now purple Leo from a few of the bags and sighing.

"Well, I suppose at least you didn't curse each other while we were out." She muttered.

"Mum…?" Wyatt asked in a small voice quite unlike his usual tones, still frowning. Concerned, Piper hurried over to her eldest son and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, honey?"

Wyatt looked her in the eye, surly faced and deadly serious, and shot a scathing look at Chris, who Leo was now attempting to lever off the floor without much success, as he was still giggling uncontrollably.

"Is my…butt big?"

This caused Chris to once again fall to the floor in a fresh bout of laughter, and Leo to drop him in surprise. Piper, taken aback, smiled wryly after she overcame the initial shock, and suppressed a smile as she watched her youngest rolling on the floor clutching his chest with now wheezing sniggers. Perry chuckled slightly and turned to the newly erected peardrop bowl.

"Sweetheart," she rubbed his shoulder consolingly "I tell you from uncountable nappy changing experiences, that you have a very nice bottom."

Now Leo, who was halfway through a second attempt to get Chris to stand on his own, doubled over with determinedly suppressed laughter and quickly turned them into a hacking cough. Chris, now red in the face, could only manage a few choked hiccoughs.

Piper crossed her arms indignantly as Wyatt turned a smug smile into a look of mild mollification, and glared at her husband frostily.

"And I'll have you know, Leo Wyatt, that _your_ bu-"

"What say we get the shopping into the kitchen, Pip?" Leo said loudly and hastily, grabbing Chris by the arm and hoisting him up. Wyatt raised his eyebrows.

"Pip, Dad? I could have sworn it was Pipsie last time I checked…"

Leo raised his eyes to the ceiling as if to implore those above for a miracle, as Piper blushed then glared at her eldest son, and Chris took a deep breath, repeated the nickname under his breath and once again fell to the floor with silent giggles. Perry nearly fell down the stairs, as he repeated the name himself, thinking, then he too began to laugh.

Piper rolled her eyes and marched over to the fallen bags of shopping; gathering them into her arms resignedly and began to issue orders abruptly.

"Leo: bags, kitchen. Wyatt, make sure your brother doesn't suffocate. Chris; up, now."

They all obliged, Wyatt reaching down on the way to jerk his brother to his feet and peering carefully into his flushed face. Chris took one look at him and nearly fell over as he attempted to laugh again, but lack of oxygen prevented this. Wyatt smacked him upside the head and dragged him out of the room, shaking his head but still smiling.

Perry made to follow, then stopped abruptly.

No matter how much they may look, sound, and even act like his own family…they would never be the family he once knew. Perry slid to the floor, leaning against the banister, and placed his head on his folded arms resting on his knees, watching the now empty doorway with an unreadable look in his eyes.

Perry wrinkled his nose and raised an eyebrow at the rather abysmal attempt spiraling across the surface of the notebook, and sighed. It was legible, he supposed, but looked more like the writing of a three year old than anything else. He hoped he had spelled 'ignoramus' right…

The door swung open, and Wyatt entered, blond curly hair sticking up comically on one side. Perry looked up, and wondered how precisely such flat, straight ever turned out to be so rebellious. His brother's long hair would never…

The potion vials in the dresser on the opposite side of the room suddenly began to rattle and shake ominously, and Perry calmed himself with gritted teeth. It was no good growing bitter now. He had achieved what he had wanted, wished for, hadn't he?

Hadn't he?

Although, ending up dead and watching himself live a happy and fulfilled life hadn't been exactly what he had in mind. In fact, being dead at all hadn't even entered the equation either.

"Hey, Perry? You in here?"

Perry was about to answer with a sarcastic variation of an affirmative, folded his arms, then froze, remembering he could not be seen nor heard. He sighed, frustrated, and instead chucked a peardrop with more force than perhaps was necessary at Wyatt's head.

"Ouch! Hey!"

Wyatt rubbed his head indignantly, and Perry smiled as he pouted once again. Well, at least it hadn't all been in vain. His brother was most definitely now a 'goodie', much as Perry hated to use such a cliché term.

Wyatt eyed the scrawled attempts on the many disregarded pieces of note paper which littered the floor, and whistled.

"Wow. You know, I really wasn't kidding when I said I wanted you to practice."

Perry raised another strawberry flavored peardrop threateningly, and Wyatt clasped his hands, pleading;

"NO! Not the strawberry one, please, I beg of you!"

Perry sighed, dropped it, and walked over to large book lying propped open on its stand, and turned a page idly. Wyatt stood up from his kneeling position, and came over to stand beside him.

"It usually repels spirits like you. Who are you?"

Perry stooped to retrieve the ballpoint pen he had dropped, grasped a piece of paper, and sat on the floor in order to write comfortably. Wyatt dropped beside him, eying the pen and paper eagerly.

' _You would never believe me if I told you.'_

Wyatt snorted, and rolled his eyes.

"Well, I've seen and heard a lot of strange things. Try me."

'_My name is Perry. I'm 20 years old, or I was, when I died.'_

Wyatt's eyes widened, and he turned to look at the air where Perry was sitting. He paused, before speaking.

"You…died? So your…I mean…your dead, so…are you a ghost, then?"

Perry smiled bitterly.

'_You could say that. I am, however, still alive on this earth.'_

Wyatt frowned, and thought for a moment.

"But…that makes no sense. How can you be alive, and dead, at the same time?"

Just then, the door slammed open, and Chris poked his head round the door, looking troubled.

"Hey Wy, are you talking to yourself, or something?"

Wyatt quickly grabbed the paper and stuffed it into his pocket, eying the strawberry peardrop on the floor with trepidation.

"Uh…no. Just…calling someone on my cellphone. Yeah."

Chris closed the door behind him, leant against it, folded his arms and raised his eyebrows, a slight smirk growing on his face. Wyatt shifted uncomfortably under the scrutinizing gaze.

"You were always a terrible liar, Wyatt."

Wyatt opened his mouth to answer, when Chris suddenly dived for something on the floor. Wyatt's hand shot to his pocket to protect the incriminating piece of notepaper, but breathed a sigh of relief when Chris grabbed the peardrop instead. He held it up and his lip curled in disgust.

"Ew! I thought I got rid of all these ages ago! Wy! You KNOW I hate peardrops, they're so bitter! How could you?"

Chris feigned a sad sniffle, and chucked the peardrop towards the bin, where he did not see it seemingly caught and suspended by thin air. Wyatt gulped nervously, trying not to follow the flying red sweet with his gaze as Chris ranted about the evils of peardrops.

"Hey, Wyatt? You even listening?"

Wyatt jumped as his brother's sea green eyes were suddenly right up close to his face, narrowed. Chris frowned and placed a hand on Wyatt's forehead, looking comically like his mother.

"You've been really out of it today. You sick or something?"

Wyatt batted his brother's hand away and rose to his feet, stretching.

"Yeah, I've got a bit of a headache, actually. I'm just gonna-"

Suddenly, a blue china vase which had been sitting on top of the dresser fell to the floor and smashed. Both brother's jumped.

"-go get an aspirin. Damn."

Wyatt started towards the dresser, but Chris' hand on his arm prevented him from going further. Wyatt eyed the strawberry peardrop which now sat innocently where the vase had been anxiously.

"No, I'll do it. You go."

Chris shoved his brother towards the door. Wyatt gave the room one last sweep for any sign of the spirit, but found nothing, submitted to defeat and left, giving his brother a concerned look before closing the door behind him.

Chris hurried over to the dresser and gathered the fallen pieces into a pile, before grabbing the bin and beginning to sweep the china shards into it. He froze, and frowned, then cursed as a particularly sharp edge caught his finger and blood welled in the cut. He sucked it hastily, thinking.

He was sure he had chucked that peardrop over into the bin. He hadn't heard it clatter on the floor beside it. He glanced about, looking for any sign of it on the floor.

There was a ringing smack and Chris jumped, looking towards the mirror on the chest of drawers, in front of which the peardrop still wobbled ominously. Chris' heart began to pound painfully fast, and he rose to his feet to stare at the shaking sweet, then his gaze rose to see his reflection in the mirror.

Wyatt was halfway down the stairs when he heard a resounding cry, then a crash, then silence from the attic he had just left. He whirled about on the stair as his mother came hurrying out of the kitchen, apron askew, calling to him.

"Wyatt? Chris? What the hell was that noise!"

Wyatt didn't answer, but leapt back up the stairs two at a time, cursing his own stupidity, fear rising in his chest.

He should have known.

**A/N: Not as long as the other chapters, but this one was a little difficult to write. Well, things get a little more 'bloody' from now on, but there will still be quite a bit of humor. **

**Liked? Hated? Review!**


	4. Chapter four

Dichotomy

**A/N: Okay, the first half of this chappy is a little dark, be warned. **

**Summary: Christopher Peregrine Halliwell died. Yet he is now alive and well. Surely that doesn't happen so easily? And if it does, whatever happened to the Chris who died to save him?**

Disclaimer: Charmed belongs to someone who is very rich, so we can immediately assume it is not me. Don't sue, you'll only get a half empty jar of old fashioned jelly babies.

Chapter 5

When Wyatt first entered the attic, it was not to a scene he had expected, at all. There was no utter devastation, no bodies lying in a pool of their own blood. The only thing which appeared out of place was the now shattered mirror, which lay in hundreds of pieces all over the floor.

And the fact that Chris was now curled in on himself, trembling, against the opposite wall.

Wyatt hurried over to him, quickly scanning his little brother for injuries of any kind and probing his magic, preparing to heal. But he could find nothing wrong, apart from Chris being shaken and apparently terrified.

"Hey, Chris? Little brother? What is it?"

Chris' hands were covering his face, his breathing was harsh and shallow, as though he was going into shock. Wyatt gently grabbed his brother's wrists and tried to pull his hands away from his face to study him properly, but Chris wrenched them out of his grip and turned towards the wall, both arms now covering his head as though trying to protect himself.

Wyatt stared about, noticed the red peardrop lying still and abandoned on the floor, and angrily addressed the room at large.

"Perry! What the hell did you do to my brother!"

The notebook was slammed angrily down in front of him, the pen sitting on the desk snatched up, and the untidy scrawl appeared again, spilling over the paper in angry blotches.

_I didn't do anything! He just freaked out when he looked in the mirror._

Wyatt eyed the mirror with trepidation, and craned his neck to study it further. It seemed perfectly ordinary, and held no magical aura or any trace of a curse. He glared back down at the notepaper.

"Then what could he have possibly seen to make him scream, huh!"

"Dead…"

Wyatt whirled around, to find Chris staring up at him with a strange, unfocused, blank look in his eyes. He smiled twistedly and cocked his head, and seemed to stare straight at something above the notebook. He looked like he was hallucinating to Wyatt.

"Chris? Can you hear me?"

Chris didn't answer, and Wyatt hastily put a hand to his forehead, and drew back with a hiss. Instead of it being overly warm, it was perishing with cold, so much so that it stung to touch it. Chris was still staring unblinkingly at the same spot far above Wyatt, now frowning as though concentrating.

Suddenly, he nodded, as though answering a question. Wyatt blinked and waved a hand in front of his brother's face.

"Chris? Hello?"

"Yeah…red really…isn't your colour…"

Wyatt frowned, now thoroughly concerned, and looked from the notebook, up, to Chris. His brother had not been speaking to him. Wyatt waved his hand back and forth above the paper, but felt nothing.

"Hey, Wy?" Chris was now looking up at his brother, eyes drooping slightly "M'tired…" he muttered, before slumping against Wyatt's chest and going utterly limp. Wyatt felt fear rise in his chest.

"Chris? Chris! C'mon, little bro, don't die on me…"

"..ead…"

Wyatt froze. It was like an echo, so quiet he had barely heard it, and crackled in and out of tune like a broken record. He could only catch brief sections of it, but listened carefully.

"…idn't ex…to go a…eak lit…ing…isn't he?"

Wyatt allowed his gaze to travel up from the notebook, and is eyes widened as he saw a translucent mist, swirling and folding itself into the shape of a figure, blurred and indefinable but obviously human.

"Perry…what…just who the hell are you!"

The semi translucent figure distorted slightly, then seemingly placed his hand on his hip and cocked his head to the side.

"And what wou…be the fun in…you?"

Wyatt blinked, shook his head, and asked Perry to repeat what he had just said clearer. Wyatt distinctly heard him sigh.

"Fine…I said 'and what would be the fun in telling you'?"

Wyatt gaped, as the figure slid in and out of focus, then seemed to gain some solidity. His eyes widened, and he clutched his brother to him convulsively as he saw the features of the translucent figure become clearer.

"CHRIS!"

Piper watched as her eldest son leapt up the stairs and out of sight, and sighed and muttered about men. She raised her eyes to the heavens and placed a hand on her hip.

"Leo! Get your ass down here!"

She hastily undid her apron and tossed it on the kitchen table, beginning to hurry over to the foot of the stairs. Before she could place a foot on the first step, a swirl of blue cloud announced Leo's arrival.

"Piper? What is it?"

Piper hurried up the stairs, calling over her shoulder to her husband.

"I don't know, but I think I heard Chris scream. Hurry."

Leo, who had been particularly protective of his youngest son due to past events, didn't bother to follow his wife up the stairs but orbed up to the attic instead.

Leo blinked as he stared at the scene before him, both his sons huddled together against the wall, Wyatt staring fearfully at a figure which was slightly hard to see standing in the centre of the room. Leo, reacting on instinct, immediately sent a shot of lightning towards the figure.

It went straight through it.

The figure gave a yelp, and turned, and Leo felt his stomach to a leap and his heart stop beating. He was semi visible, translucent, but it was unmistakable that the face that stared back at him was Chris'.

But he was different. His hair was longer, and reached his chin. He was taller and thinner than the son Leo had grown used to, and his eyes seemed darker. But, most telling of all, his entire left side was drenched in blood. The shirt had once been a pale cream colour, the fleece a light sky blue, but there was dried blood trickling down the sleeve. The face that turned to look at Leo also bore a large gash from his left temple to the top of his cheek.

The Chris which stood in the centre of the room smiled a bitter, sinister smile, and turned fully to face Leo.

"What's the matter, Daddy?" his face took on a look of mocking sadness "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Wyatt stared from Perry, to Chris, to his father, then back to Perry. Perry was…Chris? And yet, he wasn't…he was different…

"What . The . Bloody . Hell . Is . Going . On!"

He hissed, rising to his feet, placing one arm under his little brother's knees and another under his back and holding him off the ground.

Perry, as he called himself, shrugged, and fiddled with his sleeve in a way which was sickeningly similar to the quirks which Wyatt's own brother practiced. He eyed Chris with bitter resentment.

"Long time no see, Wyatt. You don't remember me, do you?"

Perry walked over to Wyatt, who tightened his hold on his brother, reached out a hand and placed it on his other self's forehead. Immediately both Chris' yelled out in pain, and Wyatt stepped back abruptly. Perry doubled over in seeming pain, and Wyatt saw the coloring in his pale cheeks begin to grow darker, his clothes grow brighter, and he seemed suddenly more solid.

As though to test this, Leo reached out and placed a hand on Perry's shoulder. It did not sink into the spirit as he had expected, but sat rather awkwardly on the limb, which was now perfectly solid.

"Chris Perry?"

Wyatt stared, open mouthed, at his father now.

"Dad? What…how did you know his name?"

"Because we have met before." Perry interjected, shoving Leo's hand off him in disgust. "Isn't that right, _Leo?_"

"Then you are Chris Perry? But…I…you…"

"Died? Yeah. Hurt like hell, you know. Not literally of course, never actually got to heaven or hell. Got stuck in purgatory thanks to Christopher minor."

He said it so casually, Wyatt shuddered at how uncaring he seemed. What was this? Was it a trick, by some demon? He said Leo and he had met before…he said he and Wyatt had met before. Wyatt racked his brain, trying desperately to recall, but nothing came to mind. How did they know they could trust him?

"You want proof, Wyatt?"

Perry said, as though he had read Wyatt's mind. Wyatt immediately erected barriers around his mind, and Perry laughed. He walked over to the bin, where the broken shards of the vase now lay, and retrieved a tiny, silver key from the wreckage. He smirked.

"Hidden in the vase. I saw Piper do it."

He then walked over to the desk in the corner, and fitted the key into the top left draw keyhole, the one which was always locked. He opened it, scrambled around inside, then withdrew a small slip of paper with a triumphant grin. He walked back over to Wyatt and held it up in front of his face.

It was a picture of Chris, or Perry, sitting on the floor, showing a three year old Wyatt one of his toys. Wyatt stared. The little boy was definitely himself. He had seen pictures of himself at this age before…but how the hell did his brother at age twenty get there?

The door banged open once again, and they all jumped. This time, Piper entered, looking flustered. She looked around the room, eyes wide, then turned on her heel.

"I'd better call the others, then."

**A/N: Okay, so now things are gonna get a little awkward. Perry is in one hell of a pissy mood and, personally, I don't really blame him. But his presence is going to cause more complications than even he has predicted…(evil smirk)**

**Translation for Perry's broken speech: Woah…didn't expect him to do that…weak little thing, isn't he?**

**Liked? Hated? Review!**


	5. Chapter five

Dichotomy

**A/N: Wow! This fic is far more popular than anticipated…thanks so much to all who reviewed! I was so encouraged I wrote chapter five at top speed…I hope you don't mind the short delay for chapter six!**

**Summary: Christopher Peregrine Halliwell died. Yet he is now alive and well. Surely that doesn't happen so easily? And if it does, whatever happened to the Chris who died to save him?**

Disclaimer: Charmed belongs to someone who is very rich, so we can immediately assume it is not me. Don't sue, you'll only get a half empty jar of old fashioned jelly babies.

Chapter 6

Wyatt and Leo gaped after Piper as she took in the situation, then left the room with nothing but a throwaway comment. Perry smirked.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I did not grow up into a normal human being."

Perry sighed, and edged away from Leo as the whitelighter took a step towards him.

"Well, as it seems the whole dramatic effect of my entrance has been undermined by my _darling _ mother, why don't you both stop the fish impression and start asking questions?"

There was a silence, which was swiftly broken as Chris groaned and stirred. Perry rolled his eyes and placed a hand on his temple.

"What is this, ruin Perry the son returned from the evil future to die and then return to the evil past which is now a good present day, or something?"

Leo blinked, and gave Perry a concerned look.

"Uh…could you repeat that?"

Wyatt asked, having managed to lever his jaw off the floor and back into its rightful place beneath his skull. Perry muttered to himself about lack of appreciation for witty comments.

Chris moaned again, and his eyes fluttered open. He gave a yelp as Wyatt abruptly dropped him in surprise, and glared accusingly up at his brother, rubbing his head, as Wyatt gave a sheepish smile. Chris then turned to look at Perry, and Wyatt did not miss the sudden look of fear which flitted briefly across his little brother's face.

"Oh, hell. I forgot. Evil bloody me is still here?"

Perry snorted, his smirk dropping from his face as he looked down at Chris with an impassive expression.

"Lack of ability to remember must run in the family. We find it easy to…_forget _things which might cause discomfort."

Perry gave Leo a pointed, sinister look. Wyatt frowned, and helped his brother to his feet. Chris gave a grunt of pain as he held his head, and held onto his brother's arm to steady himself. Perry gave him a disdainful look.

"Wow, I really feel fulfilled now." He said sarcastically "My death was really worthwhile. For God's sake, kid, grow a backbone, bloody invertebrate…"

Chris gave him an affronted look which quickly turned into a scathing scowl. He stood straighter and moved his hand away from his head.

"Oh yeah? Well at least I'm a living invertebrate, rather than a dead vertebrate with a sarky temper." He turned to his brother, suddenly serious "I'm not really this infuriating to be around, am I?"

Wyatt hesitated. Chris' scowl grew thunderous and he turned his back on his brother, indignant.

"Hell, I _really _need some peanut butter…"

Perry raised an eyebrow, and Leo saw amusement cross the boy's face. He frowned. This was not the Chris Perry he remembered. That Chris was sarcastic, and paranoid, but not outright cruel. Was he really Chris Perry, or was this a deception?

Perry's head snapped around to look at his father.

"Tsk, tsk…" he shook his head, mocking disapproval "negative thoughts, Daddy…you're aura's going haywire, by the way. You're not masking it too well."

Leo's eyes widened. Chris glowered at Perry, his gaze smoldering.

"Just who do you think you are, just waltzing in here and insulting us? What are you, a replicitus demon, or something? If so, you're not doing a very good job. I mean, come on…" he smiled "anyone can see I'm far cleverer, wittier, not to mention prettier, than you are, so the real Chris must be me."

"Oh, what a triumphant improvement." Perry said sarcastically "Instead of a neurotic time-fearing freak you get a peanut butter obsessive with a questionable taste in cuisine. Peachy." He paused "Oh, and the grammatically correct term is 'more clever' not 'cleverer'."

"Hey! My taste in food is not questionable." Chris interjected, slightly uncertainly, still eying the large blood stained hole in Perry's side. He coughed weakly, hand flying to his mouth.

Perry snorted and folded his arms over his chest.

"You don't like peardrops. Any person in their right mind likes peardrops. That's a fact."

"I like peardrops." Wyatt added, unhelpfully. Chris glared coldly at Perry, batting his brother's concerned hand away irritably.

"Point officially contradicted."

There was a pause.

"Hey! Wait just a-"

Just then, Piper re-entered the room, the portable phone clutched in her hand. She raised an eyebrow at the scene, and everyone turned to look at her.

"The girls are on their way." There was silence. "Oh, don't mind me. Continue."

As Wyatt lunged at his brother to avenge this indirect insult, and Perry watched with a quiet amusement, Piper frowned, staring from the sweet bowl in the centre on the table to Perry.

She clicked her fingers.

"Peardrop!"

Perry blinked at her. Wyatt froze in his fake throttling act, and Chris stared, red faced, at his mother.

"Excuse me?"

"I can't call you Peanut, so I shall name you Peardrop." He gave her a slightly disturbed look, and she shrugged. "Blame Phoebe. She gave me those sweets." She gestured to the bowl.

"This is relevant…how?" Leo asked, but was ignored.

"Peardrop." Perry muttered, thinking. "Pear-drop. Okay. Better than Peanut, I suppose. Especially if it's after the shape of your-"

"Yes, well." Piper said hastily, shooting a furtive, guilty glance at her youngest son, who frowned. "Who wants lunch?"

Piper, Leo and Wyatt sat awkwardly in the kitchen, eating their many and varied types of sandwich, all thinking deeply, which was a rare commodity nowadays. Wyatt kept shooting Leo furtive looks, which Leo promptly ignored.

Chris had announced he was tired, and was going back to bed. Piper scowled. It was completely unlike her son to ever refuse food of any kind, no matter what his physical condition.

Perry had taken one look at them all, and orbed, albeit a bit awkwardly away. He would be back, though, Wyatt reassured them. He had left his strawberry peardrop behind.

Wyatt was thinking hard about some of the things Perry had said, having got over the initial shock of discovering the spirit he had been interacting with was now a solid replica of his brother. What had he meant, easy to forget? He didn't catch all Perry had said, as the boy rambled just as much and at the same velocity; in other words, completely incomprehensible.

Piper was more concerned for her youngest son than the appearance of 'Perry'. He was acting very strange. When he spoke, his voice lacked its usual energy, and his eyes seemed…empty, almost. She refused to let her thoughts wonder to the true identity of 'Perry', however. It led to too many questions. Questions with answers she was not ready to comprehend.

Leo, unlike Piper, was allowing his imagination to run wild. Was Perry really the Chris from the future? He shuddered as he recalled the last time he had seen that Chris. Dying. Telling Leo not to give up, even when he was the one who was dying. He glanced upwards, towards the room where Chris was now sleeping. It was the room furthest away from the room where Perry had died. Somehow, Leo had felt that if he ever saw his son in that room again, he would not be able to prevent himself from breaking down. He had lived a façade for so long…a futile hope that Perry had somehow become part of Chris, and was still alive and well.

Well, he thought, at least he was dead, but still well.

Perry sat quietly in the middle of the utterly empty room, staring around at the immaculate wallpaper, brushing away the thin layer of dust which clung to the bare floorboards. Apparently they couldn't cope with using this place. It was…comforting, somehow, to know that at least they had felt some sort of emotion for his death.

Had he died?

He was still here, wasn't he? What was it to die? When the heart stops beating? When the body goes cold? Perry didn't think it was any of these things. As long as you were remembered, you lived on in others. Loved, treasured, always present in a little patch in their hearts, kept just for you.

Perry snorted.

They had forgotten within minutes. The moment they laid eyes on the little 'bundle of joy', they had happily jumped to the conclusion that everything was alright, and pushed him to the back of their minds in relief.

In that perspective, he truly was dead.

Chris lay in bed, still fighting the weariness which invaded his senses. He felt so…weak. Limp. Like he hadn't eaten or slept in days. His head pounded, and his lungs never seemed to draw enough breath to satisfy. Blurred shadows hovered on the edges of his vision, but flitted away the moment he attempted to focus on them.

Utterly exhausted, he allowed his eyes to drift shut, and succumbed to sleep. Meanwhile, in a forgotten room with a locked door, Perry leant his head against the frosted window pane, drew his knees up close to his body, and closed his eyes.

_Blood._

_Blood, everywhere. On his clothes, on his skin. Sticky, hot, blood, clinging to him like a desecrated child. There were pale cream peach blossoms beneath his feet, drenched in crimson._

_He was drowning in it. It was filling his mouth, the salty tang swirling around and pouring down his throat, spreading bitter fire throughout his body. He couldn't breath, he exhaled and a gush of blood fell from his mouth._

_He screamed._

And for the second time that day, Wyatt was jerked out of his thoughts when he heard his brother's petrified cry.

**A/N: Apologies the update took so long, my BASTARD internet connection short-circuited and wouldn't let me access my account…(growls) the chapter is a little short, but I wanted to save all the stuff I've got planned for next chapter…it's gonna be gooooooooood…**

**Liked? Hated? Review!**


	6. Chapter six

**A/N: I know, I know, I know. I LIVE! I went of Charmed, but now, having purchased Season Six (it kicks ass!) I am back into it and this fic is being resurrected!**

**Summary: Christopher Peregrine Halliwell died. Yet he is now alive and well. Surely that doesn't happen so easily? And if it does, whatever happened to the Chris who died to save him?**

Disclaimer: Charmed belongs to someone who is very rich, so we can immediately assume it is not me. Don't sue, you'll only get a half empty jar of old fashioned jelly babies.

Chapter 7

Christopher Peregrine Halliwell's sleep was far from peaceful. It had begun with him finding it difficult to actually drift off. When he had finally done so, he found himself waking often only to strangle a dying scream in his throat; and wondering why he was screaming. The details of the affliction which plagued him fled from him like sand slipping through his fingers.

He stared up at the ceiling and tried to catch his breath. It seemed…so familiar, so close, and yet he couldn't put his finger on it. Was he coming down with something? He kept blacking out, and then forgetting what had made him do so. What was happening to him? Was he going insane?

Chris shuddered, and goose bumps rose up his arms as he curled in on himself and burrowed deeper into the mass of bedding lying in a tangled heap around him.

It was almost midnight.

Meanwhile, high up beneath the darkly shifting skies, Perry sat hunched in a nook between two iron beams on the bridge he had once been so fond of. Here, sheltered from the rain, he leant his head back and closed his eyes; unbidden, a memory invaded his senses:

_----------------------------------------_

_Silence._

"_Wy…?"_

"_Yeah?"_

_Green eyes grew stormy grey and narrowed slightly._

"_Where's Mummy?"_

_Wyatt grasped the brightly coloured back of one of the kitchen chairs, and propped it against the kitchen counter, before turning briefly to reply._

"_She went to P3, Chris."_

_He clambered up onto the chair and kneeled on the counter, reaching a hand up to the cupboard above the sink._

"_It won't-"_

_Wyatt snatched his hand back with an exclamation as a spark flickered and his arm recoiled, a stab of pain having been inflicted from the previous invisible shield around the cupboard._

"_-work. See."_

_Chris smiled triumphantly, hurrying over from beside the table to stand peering over the counter and upwards, on tiptoe. He placed both arms up to the elbows on the edge and gestured towards the cupboard with a chubby forefinger._

"_Mummy en-chan-ted it. I saw her." He enunciated clearly, proudly. Wyatt chose to ignore the lack of decent grammar, and glared up at the cupboard, pouting slightly. There was a long pause._

"_What we gonna do now, Wy?" _

_Wyatt climbed down from the chair to stand beside his brother, deep in thought._

"_I could…move it out of the shield…"_

_Wyatt's face brightened and he grabbed his little brother's hand, pulling him carefully back to stand just behind him. He closed his eyes and concentrated._

_There was a loud crash, a cry of startled joy from Chris and Wyatt's hand was released. He opened his eyes to see the cupboard lying a little ajar by the kitchen table, Chris peering at it in apprehension. Wyatt hurried over, and his face fell, then clouded with frustration._

"_She emptied it!" he muttered, and Chris looked up at him dejectedly, eyes wide. Wyatt huffed and crossed his arms, cursing his mother's prowess in magic. There was a short pause._

"_We'll…just have to do without secondary magic, then."_

"_How?"_

_Wyatt absently tickled his brother to a shower of giggles and squirms, while he thought carefully. Chris quieted and watched him patiently, trusting in his brother's inventive genius…most of the time._

"_We've used the 'ill' excuse…and the mentally disturbed…and the sudden mood swings…"_

_He slammed his fist into the table._

"_What else is there!"_

_Chris cried out, slightly frightened of Wyatt's burst of anger, eyes wide and overbright, bottom lip quivering; he sniffled. Wyatt winced. That look could inspire armies, he was sure of it. _

"_Oh, Chris, don't." he muttered, as he reached down to pick his younger brother up and balance him on his own waist. Due to Wyatt's sudden growth spurt at the age of twelve, Chris' pitiful 3 foot 6 was hardly up to the challenge at age nine. Strangely, Wyatt suddenly felt so much older than his younger brother._

_Then he froze._

"_Chris, you're a genius!"_

_Chris blinked, momentary outburst forgotten in his surprise._

"_I'm a… gen-es-is?"_

_This went unanswered, as Wyatt was too busy going over the finer details of his hastily conjured plot._

"_Yes, perfect!" he exclaimed, spinning his little brother and himself round and round on the spot, till they were both so dizzy they fell over in a pile of windswept limbs. He smiled up at Chris with a slightly sinister smile._

"_He'll never know what hit him."_

_----------------------------------------_

_Piper Halliwell-Wyatt closed the door with unnecessary care, while attempting to smile reassuringly. Not that her company needed this, of course. But any form of comfort before a meeting with her children was well appreciated before the end of the day. She wondered what new scheme they had come up with to send her newest interest packing this time. Last time, it had been Chris spontaneously coming down with such a high fever Mark had insisted they go to hospital, then miraculously recovering just before an injection of antibiotics was given. _

_David, a tall, brown curly haired man with smiling eyes, smiled back and looked around._

"_So, this is where the magic happens."_

_Piper suppressed a wince at the unintentional pun._

"_Uh, yeah. Do you want a drink, or something?"_

"_No, thanks. And what about the stars of the show? Where are these two little infamous horrors?"_

_Piper sighed. A common misconception was that her children were just ordinary troublemakers. Not only did they have extreme prowess in magic on their side, of course, but also a pair of minds devious beyond comprehension._

"_They should be upstairs…Wyatt? Chris?"_

_Piper frowned at the distinct lack of thundering feet, and walked across the hall to stand at the bottom of the staircase._

"_WYATT? Chris?"_

_There was the slamming of a door, and Piper turned back to David with a small smile._

"_Kids, huh?"_

_David grinned._

"_You said Wyatt was the eldest?"_

_Piper smiled, thinking of another incident where precisely this scenario had happened. Mathew, as he was called, had spent all his energies on Wyatt, not seeing Chris as a potential threat. BIG mistake._

"_Yes, twelve. And Chris is nine."_

"_Twelve, and nine…three year gap…so, is Wyatt protective?"_

_Piper paused to consider. Yes, she supposed, but Chris got protective too…and strangely, this seemed to end in violence in her youngest son's case. She recalled a time when one her previous 'friends' had been engaging in a vigorous tug of war over Wyatt's favourite cushion, then accidentally hit Wyatt in the head with it. He had left promptly, leaving behind a boy with a bruised knee and a shocked mother…and swore off sex for the rest of his life._

_Yeah, ouch._

"_You could say that."_

_David was about to reply when a windswept Wyatt entered the kitchen. His eyes scanned the room, rested first on his mother, narrowed, then moved to David, whereupon they turned to slits, and he scrutinized the man. David smiled weakly, attempting an unfazed look._

"_Wyatt, right?"_

_There was a pause._

"_Yes."_

_David stuck out his hand._

"_I'm David. Nice to meet you, Wyatt."_

_Wyatt eyed the hand with distaste, before turning on his heel and leaving the room, seemingly unconcerned. _

"_Wyatt Mathew Halliwell, you get back here THIS INSTANT!"_

_Nothing. Piper frowned. Wyatt had never before disobeyed a direct approach, let alone the 'whole name' technique. She moved to the doorway, opened her mouth to shout again, then paused at a tug on her skirt. Looking down, she found a wide eyed Chris staring unblinkingly up at her._

"_Oh, hello sweetpea. What are you doing out here?"_

_Chris reached his arms upwards in a silent command, and Piper sighed but complied, hoisting her youngest son off the floor and settling him on her waist, his head on her shoulder. His hand fisted itself in her hair, and his thumb leapt to his mouth; Piper frowned, concerned. He hadn't behaved like this for a long time. She immediately grew suspicious._

"_Chris, what…is the matter?"_

_She decided to test the waters. Chris said nothing, but turned his head to look at her, eyes drooping slightly with tiredness. Piper glanced about for any sign of her eldest son, and found none. She frowned at him._

"_Chris, sweetie, we said no thumb, remember? Thumb is for little boys."_

"_That's right. You're not a little boy, are you?"_

_David appeared beside her, smiling down at the boy, hoping for a slightly more promising reaction from the youngest._

_Well, it was a different reaction, granted. Chris gave him a single fearful look, took a deep breath, and burst into tears. Piper jumped and nearly dropped him as Chris screwed up his face and screamed with all of his strength. Thundering footsteps sounded once more as David jumped back._

"_Get away from him!"_

_Wyatt knocked David away as he entered once again, and stalked over to his mother as Chris continued to howl. Wyatt reached out his arms for his brother and Chris twisted and wriggled in his mothers grip, trying to free him self. Piper refused to let him go, still suspicious._

"_I don't know what is going on, Wyatt Halliwell, but-"_

_Chris' screaming rose in pitch to the point at which the panes of glass in the windows began to shake. Piper, sensing a sudden rise in magical current, hastily handed Chris over to Wyatt before he attempted to orb. There was a silence, except for a few dwindling sobs which racked Chris' body, then quiet. _

"_You go on into the dining room, David, I'll be just a minute with the tea."_

_----------------------------------------_

_They had been together, then. United. A team, a pair of brothers, who took care of each other. David backed off, and their mother had been alone and unhappy once again. He wondered if Wyatt had ever felt guilty…but he doubted it. Times had changed. Wyatt had grown up too fast, seen too many things a child should never have to see. And Chris resented their father for that, for not doing anything to help._

_Chris stared down at the small slip of paper, with the spell capable to change all that had passed, to make everything right again._

_And smiled for the first time in years._

_----------------------------------------_

In the dark of the new morning, the two halves of Christopher Peregrine Halliwell's soul both awoke to the sinister chime of the old grandfather clock, to a feeling of such empty, bitter cold that one broke down in tears, and the other sat, and thought, and waited.

_----------------------------------------_

**A/N: If anyone is still alive out there, any comments would be appreciated! Feel free to send a good kick, too, for taking so long to update… . **

**Either way, please review! Thanks for reading!**


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